Bleak Happiness
by Esperanza Fuega
Summary: Second chapter, wow. Legolas' point of view, and a twist I'm fairly sure you might not have expected.
1. Éowyn, White Lady, Steel Lily

Ye Gods, this one came out of left field. It's an idea I've been toying with for some time, but the ending came totally from my muses, no control over it myself whatsoever. Hope you like it; whoever reviews gets an inflatable sword! Not much good if you're fighting, say, the King of the Wraiths, but hey, it's great for home deco!

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Bleak Happiness

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Esperanza Fuega

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I stare at the mirror, forcing a smile upon my lips. Would it not be grand if he should walk in now, and whisk me away? That would never happen, not even in his lifetime. For his sanity and my madness, I am marrying another. The thought burns me like scalding bathwater an inexperienced maid has drawn, fire over my body, blanketing my mind in pain as I slip into it. I think not that I have loved Aragorn, nor that I will be happy in this marriage to Faramir. Aye, I said yes to him, aye, today is our wedding day, for I shall not be forsworn, but it is the Elf who has stolen my heart and broken it cruelly, the Elf whom I love like no mortal.  
The handmaidens have finished putting me in this white gown, tightening the laces here, brushing back the expensive cloth there, and other miniscule little things. One of the younger ones lets loose with an 'ooh' of admiration, and is quickly stopped by the others. Giggles break out, unnaturally loud in the stillness of the dressing suite.   
Two handmaidens start on my hair, swirling it and pinning the blonde mass to make softly falling curls. _Joyous_, I think, _now I'll look like the proper lady he loves._ One of the maidens finds a dagger that I thought I had carefully concealed. With a smile, she looks at me, gesturing to the weapon's sharp blade, and does not remove it. Warmth fills my heart, and I return the semblance of good will. Perhaps the long years here will not be so unkind to me. 

"Lady, you should be smiling!" One of the attendants chastises me such, and I shake my head.   
"Nerves," I hear myself say; is that my voice, so calm? "I'll be fine once this is all over with." They nod, satisfied with my answer, and go back to their jobs. This has a bright spot for me, it allows myself to mull over my situation. 

I find it not amusing nor heartening to mull thus, and instead spend my times daydreaming about Legolas Greenleaf. Aie!, last night, when he swore to me that he would see me married to Faramir than allow him to break my heart was bittersweet, for I saw the tears in his eyes, Gods, they were fairer than anything on Middle-Earth, and I heard the break in his voice which he sought to cover.  
They have finished dressing me. There are no further excuses. I shall walk down an aisle toward a man I do not feel any love towards, and I shall set my broken heart amend someday.  
Father and Mother, dead now many years, turn your heads from me this day, for I do not want you to see your little Shield-maiden like this. It would grieve you as it grieves me. Mother, dearest Mother, do not forget me, and Father, beloved man, promise to teach me your wisdom when I see you next.

Tonight, we will meet again, beloved family and I.


	2. Legolas, Elf, Major Hottie

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Woo, guess who's back! Like I said in my bio, this was meant to be a one-shot fiction. Boom, it should have been over. But since you people, and Liz, and Zephyr, and my conscience bugged me about it _so much_, it's back for Round Two. Feel loved. Very loved. Anyone who reviews this time gets the pretty colored large inflatable hammers that you get at fairs and such that squeak when you hit people with them. Pick your color; the pink one's Zephyr's by default. This is from Legolas's point of view; how he fell in love with Éowyn, {finally learned to make the 'É', lol} and his thoughts concerning her marriage to Faramir, whom I hate with a passion. Also, with no idea what weddings were like in Middle-Earth, it's a regular wedding. Since I'm a lazy ass procrastinator who doesn't wanna look up the bloody triple blasted wedding vows, they're not going to get that far. Squee! Poor Legolas. He's so angst-filled in this. *hugs Legolas, takes him home, and flirts incessantly with him to get his mind off Éowyn*  
Legolas: *holds up sign saying "Free the Hot, Blonde Elf Love Slave!"*  
Espie: *holds up sign saying "He's Mine, BUGGER OFF!"*

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Bleak Happiness

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Esperanza Fuega

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Éowyn is the cause of this; the cause of my unrest in Middle-Earth, the cause of my heart opening up. Curse her for her eyes, curse her for her soul.   
Curse me, for I am in love with her until the day I die. Curse the Gods, for that day shall not happen. 

She is so fair, I fear minstrels have sang sweeter songs than I could ever hope to compose for lesser ladies.   
This has brought me naught but ill, and yet I find myself yearning for the merest glimpse of her, to see her smile would be the sweetest reward that I could reap for any pain so great as this. Aragorn turns to me, smiling.   
"Friend," says he, "worry not; this shall be over soon."  
Sooner than he thinks. I nod and smile. 

Éowyn walks out, wearing a gown that only accentuates her loveliness in my eyes.  
At the altar, Faramir grins like someone who has just found out he is going to be made King of Middle-Earth.   
I fear it is time to take action into my own hands.   
Rising to my feet, I move through the row of seats I am in swiftly, thanking those same Gods I just cursed for being an Elf. Scooping Éowyn up into my arms, I vault out the window, landing gracefully.  
Smiling at my love, I put her in the saddle of a mount, Aragorn's, before leaping onto another horse. Aragorn shall harm me for stealing his horse, but it is of no matter now.

"Ride, fair lady," I tell her, "or else we both shall die."  
Then we are off, sprinting away from Rohan, and there is no more time to talk.

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I'm sorry if Legolas came out to be a puffball in this one. *hides head* I had a hard time with the dialogue, and well, he should be a bit romantic in this if it's going to work, and I want him to be romantic…anyway. It's one thirty in the morning, on a Saturday, and I'm here explaining myself to you. Sorry, I have to go write something else.

*waves*  
  
Remember; review and you too can get a squeaky hammer thing bob! 


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